𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐯. chapter thirty one

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inevitable fuck of flint and steel

inevitable fuck of flint and steel

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content warning-ish.
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"god, daniel gillies is so hot," derrielle mumbles under her breath as his character, elijah mikaelson, steps into her laptop's dimmed-lit screen.

she very much dislikes having the brightness up. a niche she grew to favor over time, since her whole career and life practically needed her computer to be alive in the long hours of the day.

but today, she's utilizing her computer for a very different reason... bingeing her company's content.

she didn't want to resort to the one thing that betrayed her, but where else could she find 2010s' trash television?

although elle prides herself of good writing, one of her favorite guilty pleasures— besides day-drinking; watching youtube, which ranges from  markiplier's and game theory's fnaf videos to the iconic road trip to las vegas vlog, and everything the laughing-your-ass-off content of cody ko and noel miller has to offer; dancing and singing to certain country songs— is bingeing the vampire diaries or, better yet, the originals.

apparently, the fast-tempo, the cliché-ness and the nostalgia were the perfection combination to throw away the key of that adhd lock, and try to ignore her troublesome thoughts until she exploded.

even with the distraction of a show in front of her, a trail of gunpowder had crept into her mind like the black mold of nicotine broiling to waste in her lungs— just sweltering and bubbling like gasoline, waiting with anticipation for the inevitable fuck of flint and steel.

elle didn't need to look too far as to what...
or, more likely, to who... would set her up to burn.

through the reflection of the dark screen,
the writer already knew. it was someone in her bed.

drew scoffs, his bare chest jumping slightly from the deep chuckle vibrating from the dark corners of his lungs. "i've been trying to hear your thoughts and that's the first thing you say?" his fingernail traces along her exposed forearm.

they've been cooped up in bed all afternoon, slightly hungover from amount of alcohol they consumed during dinner last night.

the couple woke up earlier than the rest,
but they didn't want to leave each other's side.
nor change out of their pajamas and help make breakfast— lazy bastards.

the others started their day and left the building, not bothering the couple that's responsible for the tension growing too thick for their personal comfort.

𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 ━━ 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘺Where stories live. Discover now